


Run to Me Through The White Night

by MsHydeStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2013 era, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, But Lottie is 18, Christmastime, Famous Harry, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Harry pov, Jay is still with us and mentioned, Kinda, Louis POV, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Popstar Harry, Postgraduate student Louis, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, smitten kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHydeStylinson/pseuds/MsHydeStylinson
Summary: A horrid last-minute shopping trip amidst a mass of teenage girls and their parents was not what Louis was hoping to get roped into two days before Christmas.The day started out dreadfully, but fate had something different in store for Louis that day. A chance encounter between a famous pop star and an everyday lad, gave way to an evening that neither of them would ever forget.Prompt 74. Louis is Christmas shopping for his little sisters who currently only care about one thing: the world’s biggest boy band, that one Harry Styles happens to be a member of (maybe the other guys are in it too??). Louis heads to the store to buy all of their albums, shirts, posters, dolls, and whatnot to gift to his sisters. What happens when he (literally) bumps into Harry while pushing a shopping cart filled with items with his face on them?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 243
Collections: 1D Christmas Fest 2020





	Run to Me Through The White Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into Christmas fics! The writing process wasn’t as seamless as I had imagined it would be… maybe because angst and heartache are more in my wheelhouse than fluff and snowflakes.
> 
> The biggest reason this fic became what it is now, is Jennie [Canadianlarrie](http://canadianlarrie.tumblr.com) the best beta in the world. With the help of your suggestions and your way of spicing things up, this fic found its shape and character. And, like most of the time, she wrote the smut! 
> 
> A huge thank you goes out to Chloe for organizing this festive fic fest! To read the other fabulous fics in the fest, please [click here!](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1dchristmasfest2020)
> 
> And I hope I will be forgiven for leaving out the shopping cart but otherwise keeping the prompt as it was given!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. But when leaving constructive feedback, please, choose your words kindly.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not real, never happened, complete fiction, etc. Please do not take any of this seriously, as it is all fake. Please do not translate or repost on any other site without my permission.

There was no way anyone who subscribes to pop culture could have avoided the phenomenon that is One Direction. Since their X-Factor success — despite coming in third place — they have gained fame and musical achievements quicker than any other band in recent history. The tabloids loved them, and headlines about their latest acts and shenanigans grazed the covers on a weekly basis. The more people — especially his own sisters — gushed about the band, the more Louis had learned to close his ears and eyes when it came to them. Honing that ability had made his life much simpler and enjoyable. 

Until now.

”This is fucking ridiculous,” Louis muttered to himself, plucking up two calendars from the rack with the words ‘One Direction’ emblazoned with huge letters on the front cover. The smiling faces of five virtuous-looking guys were plastered on every single item Louis had piled in his shopping basket so far. 

Louis checked the items off the list one by one, but it seemed to be an endless endeavor. 

Like how much fan merch can one boyband have? It’s just absurd, Louis thought, peering at the next item on the gift list to see if it could be located nearby. 

The problem he had been facing for the last hour was that all the bloody items he needed to gather were scattered around the store without rhyme or reason. 

That was also something he wanted to talk to the store manager about — he’s far too exhausted right now, so maybe he’ll type up a strongly worded email instead.

Louis was so damn close to ditching his list and the whole shopping basket — and running out as fast as he could. On any other occasion, he would have done it already but it was Christmas and he was buying gifts for his little sisters. 

Louis wasn’t even sure how this all had happened. The twin’s wish list had been growing longer by the day the closer to Christmas they got. Yesterday his mum ringed him up to ask if he could do the shopping for her because a new pop-up store had opened in London and he could go there before he went home to Doncaster for the holidays.

“Why can't Lottie do it?” Louis had complained to her, flipping the telly from one channel to another, and ending up on a paternity-themed episode of Jeremy Kyle

“She’s working, or something,” his mum had replied. 

“Or something…?” Louis had repeated, suspicion audible in his voice. 

“Could have been a lecture, I reckon,” she had mumbled vaguely. 

“The day before Christmas Eve?” Louis had tried to remember his last phone call with his sister but couldn’t recall if she had mentioned anything that could let him off the hook. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. But the fact was, she wouldn’t be anywhere near the college she studied at on a Friday night. Besides, her school term had already ended — she had bragged several times that her Christmas break would be longer than Louis’. 

“I don’t remember the details right now, love,” Louis’ mum had answered too quickly. Louis smelled something fishy was going on.

“Well, _I_ could be working too,” Louis had mumbled.

“Are you?”

“Well, no,” Louis had sighed, defeated. “But I could be.”

“Please, Boo,” his mum had begged. Perhaps it was the old childhood pet name that broke Louis’ resistance. 

“Fine,” Louis had eventually given up.

And now, he regretted it deeply.

Without ever having listened to — intentionally at least — the stupid band, he already hated them from the bottom of his heart. Especially the pictures of the curly-haired cunt, it irritated Louis more than it should. No one could look that content and daft at the same time in every single photo. It was unnatural. 

Louis pressed his thumb over the guy’s face, rolling it slightly, and immediately felt better. Then he remembered his mission had yet to be accomplished. He had spent what felt like an eternity in this store, jammed with dozens of teenage girls and their parents. The mums seemed more confident whilst navigating around, but Louis has also spotted a few very desperate looking dads and felt deep sympathy for them. They had the same deer-in-headlights terror in their eyes while rushing back and forth as Louis had felt in his bones.

With a deep sigh, he checked his list again. There were still a couple of items he hadn’t found yet. He looked around and saw the hideous lunch boxes he had been searching for ages now. He slammed them in the trolley and headed towards his final destination — T-shirts.

He had saved them for last, thinking it would be the easiest grab, but no. There were many different prints, colours and styles of fit. He was tired, sweltering and pissed off from all of this craziness.

Louis loved Christmas — the tranquil feeling on Christmas day with family and good food — it was all this pre-Christmas mayhem that made him want to pull his hair out. The Christmas carols playing on a loop in the background only made matters worse. The only thing that could have made it worse was if they had replaced it with this band’s music. But thank God they never made a Christmas album. Nonetheless, he just had to get out of here. 

And soon.

After a panicked phone call to his mum to help with the shirts, he headed straight for the cashier and waited in the queue for twenty minutes. Once he collected his bagged purchases, Louis hauled arse and ran out of the store. 

“Fooking hell,” he muttered through the plume of smoke he puffed out after taking a long, much-needed drag from his cigarette. People were passing him by left and right, making Louis feel trapped again. 

In an effort to escape the horde, he turned down a side street with far less pedestrian traffic. He didn't slow down his pace, fearing the chaos was following him closely behind. He smoked his cigarette until his fingers began to burn, then killed the butt on the edge of the building and dropped it in a bucket next to the pub he was stopped in front of. 

He was hungry, tired and anything other than a crammed tube ride back home sounded tempting. And to his luck, it had started to snow. Fat flakes fell from the sky and began to form a thin layer on the ground. Yeah, yeah, it would be great if they had white Christmas this year but Louis was more concerned about what this did for the traffic on the roads. He was heading home tomorrow and didn’t want to be white-knuckling it the entire drive. 

When Louis realised he was standing one storefront away from a cozy looking bookstore, he didn’t hesitate to step in. It was a haven for him right now after that shopping ordeal. No hassle, no irritating background music — just silence. He immediately relaxed — the stiffness in his shoulders eased and he was able to breathe deeply too. 

Louis wanted to cry in relief when he saw a tiny cafe in the corner, that’s just what he needed right now. A couple was stood in line waiting for their drinks so he decided to wander around for a while, Louis had hit his quota of queues for the day. Maybe he would find the book he had been planning on buying for ages but always forgot. It could be his birthday pressie to himself.

A wave of irritation washed over his mind when he remembered that tomorrow was his birthday. Twenty-two wasn’t a special number when it came to birthdays, but he was still disappointed that the friends he had planned to go to the pub with tonight, had cancelled on him, one by one this morning. Being born on Christmas Eve wasn't a lottery win for many reasons, and that was definitely one of them. 

He understood people had plans for Christmas and many of his friends would travel back to their family homes around the country for the holidays. Louis understood if they had to leave earlier in the night than planned, but he hoped the cancellations hadn’t come at the last minute. He could have left for Doncaster today too. Well, if his mum hadn’t delegated all of her last-minute shopping for Louis to do. 

_Whatever_ , Louis muttered aloud. He made a sharp turn to the right between the shelves when he bumped into something.

”Fuck,” Louis cursed when he felt all his bags slip from his grasp and spread out on the floor. 

”Oww,” the figure cried out, rubbing the arm Louis had whacked with his elbow.

”Shit, sorry mate. Are you alright?” Louis rushed to ask the stranger. From the very fit stranger actually, Louis noted as he tilted his head back up to look at his casualty. 

”Yeah, m’okay,” the guy drawled, giving a small smile. Louis stared at him, a ponderous expression set across his face. He was pretty sure he had seen this man before but his brain couldn’t connect the dots where he might know him from. Maybe a pub, or school? 

”A fan, I see.” 

Louis saw the guy’s eyes were aimed at the floor. He remembered what his bags had been filled with and he felt the blush creeping up his face. 

”No, no, no, shit!” Louis hurriedly said. ”These are all for my little sisters, I don’t know, or even want to know,” Louis emphasised strongly, ”anything about those wankers.”

”Oh, that’s a shame,” the guy smirked, revealing his whole face. And—

”Oh no… Nonono.” Louis’ eyes whipped from the floor and up to the guy and back down again when the realisation hit him with full force. It couldn’t be. 

The guy just grinned, cocked his head to the side, and shrugged. 

”This is you?” Louis picked up the Harry doll from where it sat at his feet and lifted it up next to his face. It didn’t resemble him at all, but the photo on the package gave him away. Although, that photo must have been at least a couple of years old. That boy in the picture wasn’t anything like the young man standing in front of Louis right now. 

”I'm afraid so,” the guy — Harry — admitted, giving a tinkly laugh. It sounded like jingle bells, Louis thought.

”But—”

”I’m Harry. Harry Styles.” He stretched out his hand and shook Louis’ hand lightly. The grip was firm but his skin warm and soft, and if his smaller hand lingered too long in Harry’s hand, well, no one needed to know that. 

”Louis— Umm, Tomlinson,” Louis replied, still baffled about the situation. If his sisters knew who he was currently with, they would turn green with envy. 

”May I say, I’m a big fan of yours, Louis Tomlinson, I celebrate your entire catalogue,” Harry said, his mossy green eyes surveyed Louis from head to toe, all the while a smile caressed his lips. 

”Oh my god!” Louis burst into a laugh. “That was the lamest pick up line I have ever heard in my entire life. Uuh, I mean if it was a pick up line,” Louis added quickly, biting his lip. Had he been jumping to conclusions too fast? 

”Well, that depends... Is it working?” Harry asked, ruffling his fringe. He observed from Louis behind it, chewing gum like his life depended on it.

“Perhaps,” Louis smiled, squinting his eyes. Suddenly, his moment of bravery ended and embarrassment set in, and he quickly crouched down to gather the merch up from the floor.

“In that case, can I get you something to drink?” Harry asked, handing Louis the calendar with his face displayed in the middle. The very same one Louis had squished with his thumb less than an hour ago. 

“I saw they sell them here in the shop too,” Harry carried on when Louis stayed muted.

“Huh…?”

“Coffee,” Harry said, taking the carrier bag from Louis.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Louis blurted without thinking.

“Oh...” The disappointment was audible in Harry’s voice. Silently, he packed the items still in his hands into the bag and passed it to Louis. “Maybe I’ll be on my way then, still have shopping to do and all.”

“No!” Louis managed to untie his tongue and hoped for the ability to form sentences again before Harry left.

“No?”

“No,” Louis echoed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I really don’t drink coffee, cos I don’t like it, but wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea. If the offer still stands, I mean.”

“Of course it does, yeah,” Harry smiled, his demeanor changing from morose to merry the moment Louis explained what he meant. “Do you want to go somewhere else, or are you all right with this?”

“Here’s good,” Louis said looking around. “I think there are a few chairs at the back and it seems more private?” Louis asked even though it was more of a statement. He didn’t want another misunderstanding to come between them again.

“Okay,” Harry replied. “Why don’t you go grab us a table, and I’ll go to get us drinks.”

“Yeah, sure,” Louis nodded, flashing a little smile. 

“How do you like your tea?” Harry turned to ask. 

“With a splash of milk, no sugar, please. Preferably Yorkshire tea, if they have it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then anything will do,” Louis said. 

“Okay, pop star,” Harry grinned, walking to the cafe. 

Was that too high maintenance?, Louis asked himself while walking towards the seating area, sitting down in one of the two small club chairs beside a small gas fireplace. And it wasn’t only that; he had just barked his order to Harry Styles. He was famous, like really famous. Louis had just witnessed with his own eyes the madness he and his bandmates had caused from having a pop-up shop — and it had only been the merchandise! This lad was on another level compared to Louis. 

But somehow it was difficult to see Harry that way. He looked just like any of Louis’ postgraduate friends in scuffed brown Chelsea boots, black skinny jeans, a suede overcoat and a green beanie pulled over his curls — except his outfit probably cost more than Louis’ monthly income. Nonetheless, Harry seemed so normal — and in fact, really shy.

The same perception continued when Harry returned and sat the tray down on the small round coffee table placed in front of the chairs. He took his coat off and slung it over the back of the chair before he removed the two cups from the recycled cardboard tray and passed one to Louis with a coy smile, then placed a brown paper bag on the tiny table.

“Here,” Harry said, warning: “It’s really hot, be careful.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiled.

“It’s easy to picture myself sitting here and reading a book all day long,” Harry dreamed, sitting down. “This looks cosy.”

“And quiet,” Louis sighed. “Not to sound rude, but your fans are pretty wild.”

“I know, they’re amazing.” Harry looked fond as he described his fans.

“Hmm, not exactly the word I was going to use,” Louis grinned, shaking his head in amusement. 

“It can be overwhelming sometimes, I admit that. But without them, we would be nothing. Just a one hit wonder in the music business that no one remembered after a couple of months,” Harry explained in a serious tone.

“When you put it like that,” Louis muttered, feeling a bit ashamed.

“No, Louis, look. All most people see is a bunch of young, screaming girls but for me, us, they are the most loyal fans we’ve ever seen and we are forever grateful for them,” Harry said firmly.

“Yeah, of course,” Louis smiled awkwardly, taking the lid off from his tea and blowing on it to cool it down. 

“Oh, I bought muffins, as well. White chocolate macadamia or blueberry?” Harry asked, taking the paper bag from the table.

“Erm, that chocolate one, please.”

Harry dug up a delicious looking muffin and handed the bag to Louis. After thanking Harry, Louis broke a piece off and popped it into his mouth. It tasted like sex to an extremely fuck-starved Louis. 

“They had Yorkshire tea!” Louis exclaimed after he carefully sampled his drink.

“Can you really taste the difference?” Harry wondered, frowning. 

“Of course I can, how could I not?”

“It’s tea we are talking about.”

“Yeah, I have been told I might be a bit obsessed with my Yorkshire tea,” Louis admitted. “To be fair now, I’m sure you can recognise your own favourite posh chocolate, or champagne, in just the same way.”

“Yeah, I might. But you’re the first one to do it with tea.”

“You’ve just never met anyone with such impeccable taste before, is all,” Louis grinned at Harry. 

“True,” Harry admitted. “You seem to have an impeccable taste with gifts, as well.”

“Ugh,” Louis groaned, feeling embarrassed. He said it to Harry as well.

“Don’t be. I didn’t mean it that way, honestly. Besides, if you hadn't bumped into me, I might not have had the courage to come up and talk to you. Now I have something to talk to you about,” Harry confessed, coyly turning his gaze away and taking a sip from his cup.

Louis stared at him with his mouth open in mid-chew. “What? Why would you be afraid of talking to me?” Louis asked, with his hand now covering his mouth.

“I’m really not that good when it comes to talking to fit lads,” Harry said, blushing and tilting his head down to scratch at the crown.

“But you’re you… a pop star, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still an average guy with pretty universal insecurities,” Harry said. “Besides, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see a ‘pop star’. Your words, not mine.”

Looking at Harry now, Louis found it easy to believe what he was saying was true. He seemed so humble. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Louis asked Harry.

“Last minute Christmas gifts,” Harry grinned. “I wanted to buy a few books for my friends and family to add to their gifts. I’ve been too busy to do it until now.”

“You could have done it online, or perhaps send your assistant to buy them on your behalf. Just like my own mum did,” Louis huffed. 

“I wanted to come by myself. Besides, I prefer these quaint little book shops instead of big chains and these rarely have delivery service,” Harry explained. “And I actually enjoy Christmas shopping.”

“Really?” Louis asked with disbelief. He hated going shopping any time of the year, let alone Christmas.

“Really,” Harry nodded. “I love picking out the gifts and wrapping each one. My Christmas Eve tradition — since last year,” Harry grinned cheekily, ”is to open a good bottle of red wine and wrap them up.” 

“I certainly don’t have that kind of a tradition for Christmas Eve,” Louis laughed.

“What do you have then?”

“I usually get shitfaced and celebrate my birthday,” Louis grinned.

“Tomorrow’s your birthday?” Harry asked as if it’s the best news he’s heard all year.

“Yeah,” Louis shrugged.

“That’s lovely!”

“If you would’ve said that to me that fifteen years ago, I would have strongly disagreed with you,” Louis replied, giving a dry laugh.

“Oh, why?”

“Why do you think?” Louis counter questioned. 

“You mean because it's the day before Christmas?” Harry realised.

“What else?” Louis shrugged. “It’s different now, but when I was a kid I never got real birthday parties. Mum always baked me a cake and gave me a few birthday gifts, but it just didn’t feel the same, you know? Now it feels like a juvenile way of thinking.”

“You were a child,” Harry reminded. 

“Well, yeah,” Louis admitted, then quickly changing the subject. “So, what are your plans for Christmas?”

Harry’s clearly a Christmas person, just like his whole family. It became apparent when Harry began to explain his family’s Christmas traditions up in Holmes Chapel. From there, the conversation easily turned to memories and stories about their families, and life in general. It was strange to realise how easy it was to talk with Harry despite their lives being polar opposites. 

Try as he might, it was still hard to forget who Harry was. 

Their drinks had been finished ages ago, but neither of them made any effort to leave. Louis knew he should be the one to part ways first. He had the feeling Harry was being too polite to just say he needed to go because he had been the one to initiate this little coffee date.

“I think I need to walk for a while,” Louis stretched his arms towards the ceiling. He grabbed his denim jacket from the backrest and pulled it on. 

“Sounds good,” Harry said, immediately standing up but then he was in no hurry to go anywhere. “Sorry, bad back,” he apologized, rubbing his lower back with his hands.

“I'm gonna wander around here a little bit. I want to find the book I came in to buy, so,” Louis explained as he lifted his bags up off the floor, offering Harry again a chance to leave. 

“What book are you looking for?” Harry asked, following Louis between the shelves. 

“It’s the one written by Jon Ronson,” Louis said, turning to Harry. “Look, I had a great time talking to you but you don’t have to stay. You’re probably busy anyway.”

“You want me to leave?” Harry asked, looking like Louis had just slapped him square across the jaw. “I thought— Nevermind, I get it,” Harry mumbled. “It was nice to meet you, Louis, Happy Birthday, and I hope you have a Happy Christmas with your family,” he said, beginning to stride towards the door. Shit, this wasn’t what Louis had in mind.

“Harry!” Louis ran after him, grabbing him by the arm. “Stop, please.”

“I’m confused Louis, it felt like you were trying to get rid of me,” Harry said.

“No,” Louis sighed. “I tried to give you a chance to get rid of me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re probably busy, so many plans and people to see, and, yeah,” Louis looked down at his bags, it was much easier to focus on them than to look Harry in the eye while he mumbled out an explanation.

“I’m quite capable of prioritizing my schedule, thank you very much,” Harry pouted. “And right now, my iCal says it’s Louis o’clock.”

Louis burst into a laugh. “Louis o’clock? Seriously?”

“That’s what it says,” Harry shrugged, grinning. 

“You don’t have any plans for tonight? I find that hard to believe,” Louis said, still feeling suspicious.

“Why? Do you have plans?” 

“Not anymore.”

“How so?”

“I was supposed to go to the pub with my friends to celebrate my birthday a day early, but they all cancelled.”

“All of your friends cancelled?”

“Yeah, this morning,” Louis said slightly bitterly. 

“Right, we have to do something about that,” Harry said, slapping his hands together.

“What? Force them to go to the pub with me?” Louis suggested, sounding sarcastic.

“No, even I don’t have the power to do that, but I can make it so you don’t have to be alone tonight,” Harry said. “I mean if you don’t want to…”

“I’m listening,” Louis smiled.

“What would you say to coming over to my place tonight? We could order take away and watch a film, or whatever you’d like to do. You’re the birthday boy here.”

“You’re asking me to come round yours?” Louis stared at Harry with curious eyes. 

“Yeah, s’not far and it’s more private,” Harry shrugged, looking around him. Louis noticed there were a few people lingering around and whispering to one another. 

“I mean, not private like I’m some nutter who’s gonna turn you into a human Christmas tree, but once Twitter catches wind that I’m out here shopping it’s gonna attract a mob,” Harry hurried to add.

“No, yeah, I get it. Umm, okay?” Louis said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, why not. It’s better than being alone in my flat.” 

“So you’ll come?” Harry sounded delighted.

“Of course, I think you’re a really nice guy. But I’m going to be really upset if you try to murder me the night before my birthday, and two nights before Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that so close to those important holidays, Lou,” Harry smiled, staring at his feet and biting his lip.

”I can see the tabloids now, “Harry Styles: Pop Star Strangler”, has a nice ring to it, yeah?” Louis teased.

”Haha,” Harry deadpanned. ”Okay so, can we make a deal first?”

”What deal?” Louis wondered.

”That you stop calling me Harry Styles. I just want to be known as Harry from here on out. Not the public figure everyone else sees.”

”Of course,” Louis promised. ”But just so you know, I don’t think of you as a celebrity — unless I look at the merch in the bags.” 

”Good then,” Harry said, looking relieved, and took a few of Louis’ bags to help lighten the load. “Let's get you that book, and then head out.”

“Sounds good,” Louis said, lifting the bags. “What about the books you wanted to get?”

“Oh, shit! I almost forgot,” Harry cursed. “Okay. You get your book and I’ll get mine. We’ll meet at the checkout once we’re done?”

“Aye,” Louis replied before they parted ways for a moment. Louis was able to find his book quickly, but Harry’s list was much longer and it took longer for him to make his purchases.

Fifteen minutes later Harry appeared at the checkout balancing a huge stack of books. “Sorry, it took longer than expected,” he said, dropping them on the counter. 

“No worries,” Louis smiled, without one word of a lie. The tea and muffin, and especially Harry’s company, had helped him to leave behind the horror of his first last-minute shopping experience. He was cool, calm and collected while he waited for Harry. 

Well, almost at least. It was Harry Sty—, erm, _Harry_ after all.

“I have a car waiting outside,” Harry told Louis when the shop assistant had returned his credit card and the carrier bags full of books. 

“Okay,” Louis replied, slightly confused. They had talked about going to Harry’s but that was all Louis knew. Was Harry offering him a ride, or just mentioning the car generally?

“If you want to stop by at yours first, we can do that,” Harry said. 

“Umm, yeah that’d be ace. You sure that won’t be a problem?” Louis replied, biting his lip. 

“Not at all,” Harry exclaimed. “Alex can wait for us in the car.”

“Alex…?”

“My driver.”

“Oh, of course,” Louis gulped, staring at him. For a moment he had nearly forgotten who Harry was but a personal chauffeur was a stark reminder of the reality. Silently he followed Harry to the black Range Rover and climbed into the backseat after Alex opened the door. 

”Where to?” Louis heard Alex’s voice asking, and it took him a while to realise the question was directed at him. He told him his address and the car merged smoothly into the traffic.

They left behind a busy Oxford Street as the driver navigated his way through Central London. When they passed by Trafalgar Square, Harry began to tell a story of when their band had closed it down once to film a music video. 

“We were driving around atop a red double decker and girls were chasing us all around,” Harry laughed. It didn’t come off as bragging, more like he was regaling about a time in his life that was exciting and uncharted for him. In turn, Louis shared a funny story that happened to him and his friends, pissing about in Trafalgar Square trying to pick up tourists. Then it hit Louis — stories like Harry just told him _were_ his everyday life. Instead of having millions of fans around the world, fancy cars and private drivers, Louis had a small but close knit group of friends, a 2001 Volkswagen and occasionally he’d make Oli drive if he didn’t feel like it. But he sat in the passenger seat of that Jetta, not the back of a high end SUV.

And now Louis found himself intertwined into the fabric of Harry’s life. Albeit briefly, he knew, but still. 

”This is it,” Louis emitted an awkward laugh when the car stopped out front of the nondescript brick building where he lived. Harry peered out the window and Louis wondered what went through Harry’s mind about being in this section of London. In his mind, Louis had already prepared himself for a hasty excuse from Harry about having to flee the scene for an engagement he suddenly remembered he had to be at. 

”Can I help you bring your bags in?” 

Louis stared at Harry, trying to decipher if Harry was actually asking to come up and see Louis’ flat. ”You— you want to come up?” 

”Yeah, but only if it’s okay with you,” the younger man replied softly, as he smiled bashfully.

”Yeah, sure. Yeah—” Louis stammered, still in shock he was about to have a famous person in his home. ”If you want to. Are you sure?”

”Of course,” Harry said in a firm voice, “And I need to have a wee.”

Louis had to turn his head to prevent Harry from seeing the diminutive smile rise on his lips. 

_This is crazy_ , Louis thought, gnawing his lower lip. He has always been quick to develop feelings for a bloke, but this didn’t feel like _just_ feelings. This was a connection that went beyond physical attraction. It felt like he’d known Harry for ages already, and their childhoods shared a lot of commonalities despite having different backgrounds. 

When he thinks about who Harry is, in the grand scheme of things, it brings him right back down to earth and feeling insignificant. Harry’s likely gonna disappear on some whirlwind tour after the New Year, and get swept away by someone else and forget all about him.

Despite the pessimism that brewed inside his head, Louis had to remind himself that, for whatever bizarre reason, Harry seemed to actually enjoy being around him. Still, Louis was mad to even think about whether he and Harry could have anything more than tonight. 

_Fuck it_ , Louis muttered to himself, pushing the spiraling thoughts of disparity aside. If he had only this one night with Harry, he should bloody well live it up. 

❄️❄️❄️

Harry glanced at Louis, trying to hide the grin that threatened to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. He was so pretty that Harry wanted to cry. While in the car, Harry had focused on talking about all the shit that came to his mind to prevent himself from staring at — and therefore scaring — Louis too much. Now that they were walking side by side towards the brown blockhouse, Harry felt as though he was back to square one again. 

It had begun to snow again, and already a dusting of snow had covered the ground, giving the neighbourhood an authentic Christmassy feeling. The air outside was crisp, turning Harry’s cheeks a ruddy hue. However, it wasn’t just the temperature outside doing that. While inside the warm car, the exhilaration Harry had felt since colliding with Louis had also made his face florid. Louis’ mere presence made his knees weak and palms sweaty. Harry quickly glanced at the smaller lad, just in time to see a single snowflake land on his thick eyelashes and melt before Harry had time to reach his hand up to them and wipe it away.

_This is crazy_ , Harry thought when he was able to drag his gaze away from Louis. How can he be so enamored with him already? It’s been two hours, but Harry could already see them curled up on rocking chairs when they’re old and gray. 

Harry, who always was so cautious with new people, had fallen arse deep — and hard. 

”Here we are,” Louis interrupted Harry’s turmoiled inner monologue. After unlocking the door, he turned to Harry with an apologetic smile, ”Sorry, this might be a bit of a tip, and—”

”SURPRIIIIISE!!!!!”

Ten or so people had jumped up screaming when Louis pushed the door open, almost giving Harry a heart attack.

“Jesus,” Louis exclaimed, holding his hand flat against his chest and looking as baffled as Harry. 

Happy birthday wishes rang out in the room as people rushed over to hug Louis. Then Harry heard someone whisper loudly “It’s Harry Styles”, and the room fell silent in the blink of an eye, everyone staring at him with stunned expressions. 

Harry wanted to flee the flat and slam the door behind him. It wasn’t the recognition, but the focus that went from Louis the birthday boy, to pop superstar, Harry Styles, and that didn’t sit right with him.

“Maybe I should go,” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear and felt a firm grip on his wrist that didn’t let go. 

“No,” he gasped, turning to Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn’t know anything about this. Really. You’ve got to believe me."

"No, Lou, it’s not that," Harry replied, biting his lip. All eyes were on him and he flashed them a small, awkward smile before turning to Louis. “This is your birthday party, and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“You’re only ruining it if you leave now,” Louis said, before quickly adding, “I mean unless you want to.”

“I’d like to stay and meet everyone, if it is alright with you,” Harry smiled at him bashfully. Louis returned a blinding smile. They stared into each other’s eyes, until someone nearby cleared their throat, popping them from their larkish little bubble.

“I’d love it if you stayed,” Louis said. “But I must warn you, they might eat you alive. See that blonde girl in the middle?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, seeing a beautiful blue-eyed girl around his age staring at him.

“That’s my sister, Lottie. And I’m afraid she has a few of her friends with her. They can be a handful.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Harry said conspiratorially, “But I’m used to much worse than this.”

“I’m not so sure…” Louis muttered. 

“I’ll be fine. My only concern right now is that I’m gonna ruin your party.”

“Not possible,” Louis said firmly. “Are you ready then?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded with assuredness. This is what he was trained for. He took a deep breath, let the air stream out through his nostrils, and formed a wide, performative smile on his face. As Louis towed him closer to his friends, he cheerily said: “Hi, I’m Harry.”

❄️

Harry spent the next few hours mingling with Louis’ friends. Normally, getting to know new people in a social context was something that Harry had come to detest. During his rise to stardom, he quickly learned that most people had ulterior motives for being his friend. It was about what he could do for them in some capacity. Being the center of everything — except on stage — was abhorrent for Harry. Although, no one ever wanted to believe that Harry came by his shyness naturally and that he was actually an introvert. Over the years he learned to accept it as the price for fame, but he’d never fully get used to it. 

This was different though. 

All these people gathered inside Louis’ flat were his friends, and important to Louis, and for that very reason Harry wanted to get to know them well. After the initial shock wore off, his friends had quickly forgotten that Harry Styles™ was there; and got to know Harry of Holmes Chapel, a kind, fellow Northerner. 

Louis had warned him about Lottie and her friends but instead of behaving like predators around him, they stayed in the kitchen, wanting to give him some space. Eventually, it had been Harry who went over to talk to them. Once conversations were flowing, at some point Lottie asked if they could take pictures with him. He blithely agreed when they had promised they wouldn’t post them for another couple of days. 

Harry had chatted with them, like with everyone else, drink in his hand and Louis next to him. He had heard a few embarrassing stories about Louis and laughed at them goodnaturedly until Louis dragged him away, a sanguine tint to his cheeks and shaking his head with faux disdain. 

The highlight of the night had been the surreptitious touches and furtive glances they had exchanged throughout the evening, making Harry feel euphoric inside. He had tried to rid the foolish smile from his face but it was futile when Louis was around. 

❄️

“I’m sorry,” Louis apologised when they were finally alone. 

“Sorry for what?” Harry frowned, confused. 

“All of this,” Louis spread his hands out to the sides. 

“I thought you didn’t know about the party?” Harry stated a perplexed expression came over his face.

“No, I didn’t know and I’m not apologising for that. It’s my friends who I’m embarrassed by,” Louis winced.

“Erm, why?” Harry asked, scratching the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling a tad anxious.

“Seriously? It might as well have been a bloody ‘meet & greet’! Christ, don't get me started on the dreadful jokes and stories—” Embarrassment gave way to discomfiture, judging by the look on Louis’ face.

“Hey, I like your friends,” Harry interrupted Louis in the middle of the sentence. 

“What?”

“I like your friends,” Harry repeated in staccato.

“And you don’t think they’re mad, or that I’ve gone mad?”

“Why would I think you’ve gone mad?” Harry asked, lightly brushing Louis’ hand with his thumb.

“First, you literally bumped into me while I was carrying bags full of your face, and next you find yourself at a party where everyone is infatuated with you,” Louis sighed, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to worry about that—” Harry tried to say.

Louis didn’t listen. He took hold of Harry’s hand and insisted he give him a proper tour of his flat. “Look, see, I don’t have any altars or shrines of you here, nor do I, nor will I, use your trademark 1D ‘action figure’”, he began, using air quotes to accentuate the misnomer, “for voodoo or black magic. It is also worth noting there are no sticky magazines laying around,” Louis shot a look over his shoulder, clearly expecting to find an appalled-looking Harry a few paces behind. 

Instead of a horrified reaction, Harry laughed and pulled Louis into his arms. Harry's hands rose to caress his face and play with his hair. Harry threaded his fingers into Louis's hair and pulled him close. Louis' lips parted, awaiting his touch. 

Louis’ eyes displayed a feeling that reflected his own. Harry couldn't wait a moment longer. He pressed his lips to Louis's mouth and every thought from his head evaporated. The world as he knew it ceased to exist, all that mattered was the smaller man in his embrace. The man who reciprocated the kiss with the same eagerness and fervor as Harry. The near-debilitating uncertainty as to whether Louis felt the same way about him, had been eradicated from his mind.

The moment was interrupted when someone from another room was shouting for Louis to cut the cake. With great reluctance, Harry let him go, following close behind to the living room where the chocolate cake was waiting with twenty-two lit candles. As Louis entered the room, a joyful rendition of _Happy Birthday_ echoed through the air. Someone urged Louis to cut the cake.

Harry watched the scene playout near the window where he had snuck to the moment they entered the room. Perhaps Louis’ friends had gotten used to him by now and no one paid him more attention than any other guest. It was a massive relief for Harry. This was Louis’ moment and Harry wanted to let him shine. 

The birthday cake had been served and eaten when Louis went outside to have a cigarette with Lottie and her friends. Harry seized the opportunity and slipped into the bathroom for a wee. After he dried his hands, he remembered he hadn’t checked his private phone, and _oh shit_ …

There were at least a dozen texts waiting and the majority were from his mum. The first few were asking what time Harry would arrive back in Holmes Chapel, then the tone of the texts became increasingly wrought with concern. Harry completely understood her worry because usually when something came up, Harry always let her know. But since meeting Louis earlier that day, Harry forgot about his obligations and that it was almost Christmas Eve. He felt like his former self for the first time in three years.

Harry cursed aloud and quickly texted an apology telling her he _might_ be a bit late because he was still in London. It didn’t take more than five seconds before Harry’s phone went off with his mum’s name appearing on the screen. 

“Hi, Mum,” Harry answered, sneaking out of the bathroom. “I can’t speak properly now.”

Of course, she heard the music blasting in the background. “Are you at a party?” she asked in a cold tone. 

“I— Yeah,” Harry sighed. There was no point in lying to her. Harry was shit at fibbing anyway, and what it came to his mum, she always sensed when Harry was telling porkies. 

That initiated her tirade of being irresponsible and breaking valued traditions. Harry knew if he mentioned meeting someone who could be ‘The One’, Anne’s attitude would have changed in an instant. But he just couldn’t get the words out.

“I’ll be there tonight, Mum. I promise,” Harry pledged at the end of the call. “I love you, and I’m sorry.” 

“Alright, love you too, sweetheart. Just be careful on your drive up.”

“Okay, Mum. Bye.” 

Harry stared at the darkened phone with flushed cheeks. He felt like a disobedient and impetuous child who would get grounded when he returned home. Harry saw Louis walking towards him and quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket and smiled at him.

“Hi,” Harry gave him a little peck on the lips. 

”Hi,” he smiled. “Do you know what I just found out?” Louis continued, clearly annoyed. 

”No, but—”

”Lottie just told me that my mum was also in on this scheme behind my back. She knew about the party and that’s why she sent me to that hellstore to buy all that crap for my sis—,” Louis gulped down the last word. ”Umm, shit, sorry,” he winced.

If it had been anyone else, Harry would have been offended and apt to poutily respond with, “Heeyyyyyy”. However, since it’s Louis, his instinct was to cackle like a hyena and slap his hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the sound.

”That wasn’t even remotely funny, Harry,” Louis furrowed his brow, looking amused.

”It was! Well, a little bit anyway,” Harry beamed. Truth be told, Louis could have told him the weather forecast for the next two days and he would drop to his knees with laughter. 

There was a lull between them that lasted just seconds, and Harry’s mind replayed the conversation he had just had with his mum, and that must have shown on his face.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” 

Harry was about to tell him everything was fine but found himself spill out, “Nothing. It’s just my mum—” 

“What about your mum?”

“I think she’s a bit cross with me,” Harry bit his lip.

“Okay,” Louis furrowed, staring at Harry. “Why do you think she’s cross with you?”

“Because I was supposed to be in Holmes Chapel about two hours ago—” 

“You what?!?”

“Look, I was supposed to head back home from the bookstore but then I met you and didn’t want to let go of you,” Harry confessed, eyes aimed at his feet. _Don’t ever want to_.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” 

Harry shook his head.

“If your mum is anything like mine, she's going to wring your bloody neck, you know.”

“I know,” Harry winced. “I spoke to her whilst you were outside and she didn’t sound happy. I mean, she was at first when she found out I hadn’t been lying in a ditch somewhere. But when I told her I was still in London at a party, she exploded.”

“Poor you,” Louis grinned, but then got serious again. “But seriously, why didn’t you just leave after the bookstore? You even asked me to come to your place, you daft sod.”

“Because of you,” Harry said. “Okay, that sounded a bit creepy. I was supposed to let her know that the plans had changed a bit. She wouldn’t have been happy but would have understood. I think…”

“Look, Harry—” A small group of people began to sing along loudly with the Arctic Monkeys song streaming from the speakers. Louis took Harry’s hand and pulled him down the hallway. After noticing both the bedroom and bathroom were occupied, Louis dragged Harry into the coat cupboard near the entrance and closed the door behind them. At first, Harry couldn’t see anything but felt with every fibre of his being that Louis was really close to him.

Of course, Harry couldn’t resist kissing him again and before long they were making out like a couple of teenagers. Just when he began to really get into it, Louis abruptly pulled away.

“Harry,” he said in a gentle tone. “You should go now.”

“What...?” Harry’s heart skipped a beat after hearing Louis’ words. 

“I want you to go home and be with your mum. It’s Christmas and I can only imagine how much she’s been waiting to see you again. Must be a while, I guess?”

“Well, yeah—” 

“That’s settled then. You gotta go now.”

“You're throwing me out?”

“Not voluntarily, but I know how scary mums can be, so I’m doing it for your own good. And a bit of my own too,” Louis grinned. “I don’t want her telling me off when— Erm, I mean… Shit.”

“You want to meet my mother?” 

“It wasn’t supposed to come out that way,” Louis huffed.

“Then what did you mean?”

Louis shook his head and muttered, “I— I don’t know.”

“Can I say something?”

Louis nodded briefly and Harry continued. “If I go now, can I see you again? Maybe Boxing Day? Or any time, really, our parents aren’t that far apart.”

“You want to see me again?” 

“Of course. Have I given you the impression I wouldn’t?”

“Well, not really but—” 

“Then shut up,” He surged forward onto Louis’ lips. 

Kisses turned to nips and sucks, and their hands fervently explored each other. A moan escaped from Harry’s throat, and Louis seized the opportunity and thrusted his cock against Harry’s, kicking things up a notch. 

They were grinding into each other, keeping in time with their snogging. Harry reached down Louis’ back and cupped his arse with his hands, bringing them closer together and creating delicious friction which seemed to drive Louis mad with desire. 

“Harry,” Louis whined, “I’m getting close here love and I really don’t want to go back out there having jizzed m’jeans at my own birthday party.” 

Harry chuckled lowly and replied, “Can I?” while tugging on the button of his trousers.

“Yeah, fuck please,” Louis begged and latched back onto Harry’s lips like it’s where he always belonged.

Harry deftly unfastened the button, got the zipper down, and pulled Louis’ cock out, before pausing to consider his own situation. He repeated the same actions with his own jeans and engulfed them both in his hand. Louis’ dick was warm and thick in his grip and after a few clumsy tugs he had worked up a rhythm that felt fucking brilliant.

He pressed his forehead to Louis’ and savoured the feeling as he jacked them both off. Moans turned to pants into each other's mouths, and he felt the familiar heat in his belly, and the pulsing of Louis’ dick against the curl of his fingers let him know Louis was seconds away from spilling out all over his hand. He picked up the pace, and focused on squeezing the heads together on his upstroke, and with that Louis came with a shout, followed closely by Harry himself.

They allowed themselves a few moments to catch their breath, Louis pulled off a jumper from one of the hangers and offered it to Harry to wipe his hand clean. 

He grabbed Louis’ phone from his back pocket and hit the home key, illuminating the screen so he could type his contact info in Louis' phone. He returned the phone back in Louis' pocket before they emerged from the cupboard, undetected by anyone in the flat.

“I still owe you a birthday dinner,” Harry reminded him. “Call me.”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, pupils blown out and still trying to come down from his orgasmic daze. 

“Lou,” he placed his index finger on the base of Louis’ chin to raise it slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Happy Christmas,” Harry wished him, kissing Louis gingerly one more time on the lips before turning around, beaming, “And Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Louis whispered back. 

Harry grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall, pulled the front door open and skipped down the stairs, grinning like a fool. 

**Can I invite someone for lunch on Boxing Day?** , Harry typed out and hit the send button with his thumb. Now it would be just a matter of time before his phone would ring with an incoming call from his mum (But that would be a tale for another time). Harry crammed his phone in his pocket, and a massive smile spread across his face. 

It was getting colder outside, and with each exhale a frosty plume escaped his mouth. A dense layer of snow accumulated on the branches of the trees along the footway and the soft glow of fairy lights strung along various window casings enhanced that winter wonderland feeling. 

Harry looked up to the windows that belong to Louis’ flat. A dark silhouette stood behind the foggy pane of glass, and it looked like the figure was waving to him. Harry blew a kiss back in return, and jogged down the middle of the snow-laden deserted road, thinking of the boy upstairs who made his every Christmas wish come true.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked my story! Kudos and comments are always welcome. But when leaving constructive feedback, please, choose your words kindly.
> 
> Here is also a Tumblr [post](https://mizzhydes.tumblr.com/post/637234070130163712/run-to-me-through-the-white-night) you to reblog, if it is something you would consider to do. 
> 
> If you have something to ask, or just want to say hi, you can always contact me. Happy holidays to everyone!
> 
> Tumblr [mizzhydes](http://mizzhydes.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter @MsHydeStylinson


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